Gambit's Resolve
by paradoxed
Summary: Love is made of moments.
1. Musica

_If music be the food of love, play on._ \- _William Shakespeare_

* * *

Artemis preferred the sounds of nature. The singing birds, the whispering trees, the rustling brush … that had always been more musical to her ears than her brother's antics.

One could only tolerate so much of Apollo's yapping over plucked cow guts and Athena's silly puff-faced shrilling before the experiences lost their novelty.

But music had its time and place, and she'd warmed up to it in the centuries since. There were many reasons her predisposition changed.

For one, the more recent varieties of instruments invented in the previous few centuries added much more flavor. Not to mention the many types of music introduced along with invention.

In Ancient Greece, there had primarily been the lyre, the flute, and rudimentary percussion. Hardly worth mentioning was the horn, but the level of sophistication at the time meant they could scarcely produce anything more than a signal.

Music hadn't really evolved significantly until the times of the Baroque and Classical—no more humdrum monk chanting and Latin prayers for all eternum.

The whole family of string instruments, the first harpsichord performances—she'd been there, drawn in by the tinkling waterfall of melody and harmony and fugue. That wasn't mentioning the introduction of full orchestras, or the whole host of woodwind and percussion instruments created.

Sure, she enjoyed string instruments, to a degree. But they were undeniably too much like the lyre, even if the introduction of a bow differentiated the sound. She could appreciate them—but they were a touch too familiar. Though the lower range of the cello gave such new depths of timber and weight.

But then there was the brass, so much improved from the singular horns of old. From trumpet to trombone to tuba (her favorite was the French horn, though), she could almost hear the human voice calling clear through looping tubes of metal to convey so much more than strings could on their own. Strings always sounded like strings, plucked or pulled. But brass?

The first time Artemis had heard someone neigh like a horse through their trumpet, she'd readied her bow and shot them.

Not her proudest moment.

He lived.

And woodwinds—oh, my. The modernization of the metal flute, in contrast to the atrocity of Athena's flute (which became the plastic recorder - somehow mortals thought it would be a good idea to mass produce that garbage). The creation of the lovely velvety clarinet, the conversational oboe (and it's deeper cousin, the bassoon). And of course, the most recently created, and thus what she currently enjoyed most in what she listened - saxophone.

The saxophone was almost two hundred years old by now—how time flew. But it sat perfectly in between the classical woodwinds and brass, with the exquisite voice of a woodwind and the projection of a brass.

That suave new instrument, along with the birth of jazz not too long after, had revolutionized music for her. It had been the introduction of wild rhythms and soul into music beyond expectations, and she'd enjoyed listening to the unique chord developments and dissonances ever since.

Even the more recent trends in music never held a candle to jazz for her. It was clear that they'd taken inspiration from what jazz had brought to the table, whether rock and roll or pop or even rap.

Of course, there was that last classification of instruments, percussion. It was why she was here. She'd spent over a decade mastering one.

Primarily, percussion only meant rhythms. And Artemis appreciated the beat, the intensity or ride or backbone—not to mention all the other handy toys.

But when Percy had taken her for a walk through the quieter sects of New Rome, they'd passed a mid-sized storefront, displaying none other than an array of musical instruments.

Artemis hadn't noticed the store at first, too absorbed in enjoying the warmth of Percy's hand in hers. It wasn't until he'd tugged her over, off route, that she'd looked to what had seized Percy's attention.

"What ya think? Should I try learning?" He'd said, pointing to a tenor sax, featured near the corner of the display stand.

But her eyes went past, beyond the glass and the instruments to the open space behind, to the largest instrument that dominated the surrounding space: a grand piano, gleaming white.

She'd absently pulled him in, and he'd followed, bemused and perhaps a bit too accepting and willing to follow her unspoken whim. She'd walked straight to the bench and pulled it out, absently adjusting it before sitting and opening the lid covering the keys.

And now she was psyching herself up, looking down at the unfamiliarly familiar rows of black and white, remembering. Remembering when the piano had utterly dominated the landscape of music only a few centuries ago, and finally finding the desire to learn how to play an instrument after hearing some of the greatest pieces written (or adapted) for the piano.

It had been a bit of bias, perhaps, because she'd been the inspiration for such pieces that she'd wanted to learn after hearing them.

Beethoven's _Sonata, Quasi Una Fantasia_ , the herald of the Romantic era. Chopin's _Piano Concerto no.1, Opus XI, Mvmt II - Romanza_ , drifting yet bold yet magnanimous. Rachmaninoff's _La Nuit, L'amour_ , written for two pianos, not just one.

There was just something about the tranquil madness she inspired as the moon.

The piano was also so comprehensive, able to play all the notes and fulfill all the necessary voices. Able to solo yet also support, as a part of a whole or a whole of itself. Singing out, yet acutely private.

So she'd learned. It had been around the time of the War to End all Wars, though she'd ignored the conflict in favor of spending a decade on correcting her posture. Years of learning how this positioned there helped in providing the correct amount of pressure to create the desired sounds. Learning how to read the blurry sheets of black notes, the rhythms and accidentals and much more she'd never realized had been behind the melodies she heard. Learning to not abuse the pedal, to let each note sing for what it was worth before moving on, that music required absolute perfection, and that a single mistake could not be afforded because it ruined the whole.

A missed note jarred everything.

Unless it was disguisable through jazz, of course. But she hadn't devoted herself to learning that style of playing, yet. After a decade straight, she'd been worn out. Pleased, but not willing to learn. Also, jazz had been too new, not yet settled into something she could easily learn.

Of course, there had been a whole host of music devoted to her since then, and the desire to learn jazz piano had been in the back of her mind. Notably because of a certain Frank Sinatra's classic, even if that piece wasn't particularly a piano feature.

Now was the time to get back into it. Artemis didn't have forever to get to learning anymore. For now, though … she needed a refresher.

She took a deep breath, peripherally aware of Percy's observing gaze.

She straightened her back, raised her arms, and lowered her wrists. Hesitantly, she pressed down, adjusting to the piano and beginning a simple scale. She winced as her fingers fumbled but soon fell into muscle memory of years past. After one octave, she expanded into two. Then three. Then the minor, then the next scale and its minor up, and the next, and the next …

Eventually, moving up along the piano, her arm bumped into her companion.

"Budge off, you're in the way," said Artemis, engaged in her warm-up. Percy pulled away, moving back to give her the desired space.

After a few more scales and a handful of arpeggios, she moved her hands to the notes where the piece began. The piece that had cinched her desire to play the piano.

It had been far too long since she'd played it, since she'd made sure that she still remembered how to play it, memorized. But it was something that just stuck with her, ever since she'd first heard it, ever since it had drawn her to the ivory and ebony keys.

Five flats, plenty of accidentals. Though it changed to four sharps later, just for a bit. _Andante_ , with some _rubato_. Only ever _pianissimo_ and _piano_ , but that didn't mean the melody couldn't _sing_. And _morendo_. "Dying away."

There was that poem that inspired the composer, Debussy. He'd captured the lines quite well.

 _All sing in a minor key_

 _Of victorious love and the opportune life_

 _They do not seem to believe in their happiness_

 _And their song mingles with the moonlight_

\- Paul Verlaine

Wasn't that a familiar feeling?

* * *

Percy stands back, awestruck by the lulling music and sheer emotion that Artemis shapes from the piano.

It's a vision from a dream, watching her hands bend and twist and leap and dance from key to key, producing what he could only describe as a moonlit night in musical form.

His blood rushes through his body, his nerves tingle in vague contentment, his lips fall into a small, awed, and proud smile.

It begins, lilting, call and response, before slowly, slowly, expanding, deepening, widening, echoing. Then the droplets of tinkling stars began, falling, before fading into slow lift …

And then the waves begin, the flurry of notes pulsing and repeating under the melody that reaches higher and higher and higher, before … before returning to the beginning. The call and response, of a low, long, note, to the dreaming melody.

A few more gentle brushes of water, the dying tide lapping at the shore … a lull, a few more waves.

And then the ascension into nothingness, to the moon above.

Artemis holds on to that last note, letting it fade, and fade, and fade ... before finally letting go, and letting silence prevail.

Clapping startles them both, Artemis flinching on the bench and Percy bumping backward into guitar hanging from the ceiling, turning around just in time to catch it before it shattered into the ground.

" _Clair de Lune_ ," appraises an older woman of fading beauty, entering from a separate room. "Wonderful. You are either very talented, young lady, or practiced until your hands bled."

Percy places the guitar back, embarrassed, letting Artemis close and step away from the grand piano and speak for herself.

"Thank you," she responds, with a slight smile and nod.

The store owner scrutinizes Percy, before turning back to Artemis. "So, after that little performance, what can I do for you two?"

Artemis glances at him, meeting his eyes before looking back to the owner. "My boyfriend here was wondering whether he should pick up an instrument, and I thought I'd give him a little introduction."

"Ah—well then!" the lady exclaims, gesturing around the shop. "Let's get started!"


	2. Theatrum

_In a lot of movies, you'll see people on crazy dates, and you're like, 'No one would ever do that! - Zooey Deschanel_

* * *

"Luna, do you know what you're doing?" asks Percy, a smile on his lips.

A warm and fuzzy feeling wells up from somewhere within as he watches Artemis at the ticket booth, so very clueless in her attempt to bring him out for a date. She doesn't respond, transfixed as she is, trying to understand the display board of movie showtimes.

Just when he thinks he couldn't love her any more than he already does, she goes and tries to do something as cute and heartwarming as this.

Hopefully he's proven wrong.

Regularly.

Gently, he pulls her from the front to let others standing behind them to get their tickets waving away the bemused cashier. "What's the problem, Moonbeam?"

She glares at him (of course, how dare he accuse her of being imperfect?), before reluctantly admitting, "I must profess I have no idea what any of these will be about, and whether they would be suitable for a date."

Percy chuckles, earning himself another displeased, reproachful glare. "When's the last time you even went to the movies?"

Left hand tapping at her thigh, she takes a quick glance at their surroundings before whispering, "A few decades? Perhaps a century. I occasionally enjoyed a bit of theater, but movies were of such terrible quality … I heard they're now in color, like television?"

Percy raises an eyebrow, and Artemis, perceptual as always, rolls her eyes and answers his question before he can ask it. "I don't watch television, but it's hard to avoid learning the basics about them when they're scattered across Olympus and modern cities."

"I suppose," admits Percy, grinning in amusement even as Artemis jabs him in the upper arm in retaliation for his enjoyment of the situation. "How'd I not notice that you didn't know any of the popular movies or basic pop culture stuff, before?"

He takes her hands before she can punch him again or continue with her nervous tic. It was such a small thing, but he's increasingly suspicious that there's a connection to Artemis tapping on things and her doubting herself. "Alright," he says, bringing her close, smiling roguishly as he notes her blush, "Long story short, whatever movie we watch, as long as we both enjoy it, should be fine. I don't really like horror movies or super cheesy movies, so there's that if that helps."

She nods slowly in understanding, face still flushed but eyes locked on his. So, he continues. "There're two big releases that are probably worth watching right now. The newer one is _The Avengers_ , which is based on comic books by Marvel—there's a lot of hype for that one. Lots of famous movie stars, lots of movies leading up to it, whole big cinematic universe."

He glances back to Artemis, who is obviously a little lost. "Lemme guess, you never even noticed comic books?"

She shrugs eloquently, dismissively. "Are those the sources of such strange monikers as Superman or Wonder Woman or Batman I've heard in recent decades?"

Percy smirks. "Close enough. It should be a fun little adventure story. The other big movie is _The Hunger Games_ —it's based on a book, or so I've heard. I don't know about the weird name, but apparently, the main character is a girl who's good at hunting?" He laughs again, seeing her face immediately sour. "Too close to home? _Avengers_ it is, then."

He steps up to the cashier and snappily buys two tickets for the next show (in ten minutes, how convenient!), before herding in his slightly lost girlfriend. Five more bucks out of his wallet and a big bag of popcorn later, they're sitting in two (pretty decent for how late they arrived) seats in the half-packed screening room.

It's then where Percy observes Artemis more comprehensively again, to find her squirming ever so slightly in discomfort in the cheap faux velvet of her seat. Smiling softly, he takes her hand. She flinches ever so slightly as he does so—wow, she must be distracted, definitely out of her element—before relaxing and leaning into his side, head resting on his shoulder. That same warmth bubbles up again, and he tilts his head to rest on hers.

"I was supposed to be in charge of the date," she mumbles dejectedly, as the trailers peter away. "You've already asked me out on all the other ones, I just wanted to …"

He turns to kiss her forehead, softly, gently. "By all means, I would love that." Her hand grips his all the harder, and she turns to ensnare his mouth with her own. Her other hand rises to caress his cheek, even as the kiss becomes a little more … rough and involved.

Percy pulls away, delighted. "Of course, next time just pick something to do that you're comfortable with—don't follow whatever stupid advice you found online."

He laughs as Artemis half-heartedly attempts to dig her elbow into his gut.

Worth it.

* * *

There was a certain appeal in movies, Artemis supposed, as she walked out of the theater two hours later, hand in hand with Percy.

She didn't quite understand the whole of the story—why exactly were Norse gods involved? And she was missing the context of their backstories from previous movies, according to Percy. A whole set of movies about why Iron Man had a metal suit and why Captain America was from World War II and why the Hulk turned big and green.

Otherwise, though, the plot and pacing of the movie were quite candid. There was a dearth of interesting and dynamic characters that bounced off each other, generating believable conflict. The colors were somehow more varied yet less vivid, though that downside held no candle whatever illusory "special effects" thing (as Percy called it) that were used to destroy New York. It was very realistic, Artemis had no idea mortals could do such a thing.

"That was … enjoyable," she began, carefully disposing of the now empty popcorn bag. "Though it wasn't exactly …"

"Your thing?" completed Percy, as if he read her mind. She shook her head. "Hm, I felt like you enjoyed it though. You were plenty interested in the movie—was it just being in theaters, maybe?"

"Perhaps?" It had been a little claustrophobic, as large as the theater was. Dark, loud, oppressive, foreboding, it had been all too discomfiting. Psychologically, it was as if it was trying to immerse her in the movie. Which, at second thought, made sense. It was just that she preferred to be aware of her surroundings, and the movie had tried to rob her of that.

And then there had been the audience factor—when actually taken in by the narrative, edging out her unease with the venue and presentation, other watchers had giggled or exclaimed or cried out!

The only reason she hadn't got up and left was for the sake of her companion, who, judging by his current mood, had liked the movie a lot more than she did.

"Maybe we can try renting a movie to watch back in the apartment? To see if you like it any better."

Maybe she would, but … "How, exactly? We don't own a television."

"Laptops can play DVDs. Did you not know that?" Percy chuckled in response to her blush. "So you can Google dating advice, but don't know all that your laptop can even do yet?"

She scowled. "Well, blame mortal technology for growing so quickly. I still remember when electricity became the new thing."

"Oh, aren't you so proud of your age-" He let go of her hand to dodge her punch. Laughing one last time, he stepped in close and hugged her tight.

For a moment, she resisted, before letting the tension from the uncomfortable experience flow out her body.

Sometimes she wondered how Percy understood her so well.

"C'mon," he murmured into her ear. "Let's not leave tonight on a bad note, yeah? How about we go get something to eat?"

"Ice cream," she decided, extricating herself. It was hard to leave his warm embrace, but she wanted chocolate chip cookie dough. "I'm paying."

"Aw, seriously?" he whined, as she began dragging him to New Rome's best creamery. "You don't let me pay for _anything_ except our dates!"

"Well, I took you out on this one, so I was supposed to buy the tickets, was I not?" She rolled her eyes.

"And you pay all the taxes and the apartment and our health care and-"

Artemis used a tried and true method to shut him up: she kissed him. And after a few seconds of token protest, he gave up and returned her kiss with equal fervor.

Eventually, she pulled back, the both of them out of breath and just a bit dazed.

"Just let me pay, you big baby."

And that was that (with a cherry on top).


	3. Somnus

_Sleep my friend, and you will see that dream is my reality. - James Hetfield_

* * *

Artemis looked over the top of her novel, across the table.

Percy had fallen asleep.

She'd guessed as much when the sound of textbook pages sifting and turning had ceased. Though he'd still continued murmuring under his breath in his sleep, so she hadn't been entirely sure. He talked in his sleep, after all.

It was an endearing sight, if a far too familiar one.

It really seemed like he was trying to make up for his earlier school days. Not that he was a bad student, distracted by monsters and ADHD and dyslexia and such, but he'd never quite tried to do well in school. At least, according to him. So far she'd seen at all in New Rome, he'd been dedicated to his studies.

It hadn't been so much the previous year. He'd been such a fool that year too, refusing to move into her apartment, to live with her, to ease himself of some of his financial burdens. She could understand it to an extent—they hadn't been that comfortable with each other at that point yet. But he'd insisted on doing the same the next year until he'd eventually been convinced when she'd called his (a bit too perceptive) mother.

Moreover, last year, he hadn't spent every night with his nose in a textbook or doing homework. He was busy, but not overworked. Then, Artemis had failed to convince him not to take five classes a quarter.

And between university, hanging out with old friends and quest mates, monster fighting, and even the occasional representation in the Senate, he was almost always exhausted. But he was happy, though, so even after a full year and a half of the relentless pace of his schedule she still hadn't found the heart to make him stop. Or rather, anything more than a few half-hearted protests and telling him he was a stubborn idiot.

Maybe if he wasn't banging his head through a wall over his (thankfully final) calculus class, she wouldn't call him that. But that was what made Percy the _Percy_ she loved so dearly, even if she was left with him slumped over a textbook and drooling onto its pages every now and then.

He'd mentioned a big test the following day. Just a midterm, though she didn't have hers scheduled for another week. So while she was tempted to let his neck and back suffer from a night of bad sleeping posture, she would rather he was comfortable and ready for the test than let him suffer for his mistakes, however much he had to learn that lesson.

So Artemis set down her novel— _Shadow of the Hegemon_ , sci-fi was much more interesting than she'd originally thought, she wished she looked into the genre earlier—and got out of her chair as quietly as possible. Making her way around the wooden table, she gently pulled him upright. Then, crouching down, she snuck an arm behind his back and the other under his legs, then picked him up. He was fairly heavy - supporting weight was different than drawing hundreds of pounds in bow strength. But it was nothing too difficult.

She made her way to their bedroom. It was just the next room over—their apartment had large floor space but few rooms, only a bedroom, restroom, kitchen, and living room. And gently, gently, she lay him down on the bed, setting his head comfortably on the pillow and pulling off his thankfully clean socks before pulling the covers over him.

She pulled open the curtains behind the bed, letting the waning half moon and stars that night shine in. Quiet and asleep, Percy looked … peaceful. Smiling at the sight, she kissed his cheek, then left the room.

She'd sleep later.

* * *

Percy blinks awake, the graceful sunlight streaming through the windows only grating on his eyes. The living room windows didn't face the sunrise …

And then there's that familiar weight on his chest. And sure enough, he looks down to find Artemis's shock of auburn hair draped across his chest.

He holds in his chuckle the best he can, not wanting to disturb her rest. Knowing Artemis, she'd stayed up reading or something until 5 AM before finally going to bed. And right now was about … he twists his left arm out from under her to check his watch: 8 AM. Gods, he hates waking up early, but he'd long since trained himself to do so to make it to classes.

There is still another hour before his exam, though, so he has some time to get ready. Percy gathers some of the long hair lying on his chest, parting it to the side, then pulls the rest the other way to tuck it behind Artemis's hair, revealing her face.

And what a beautiful face it is, porcelain and ethereal as ever, almost too pale in the morning light. He traces the few freckles upon her cheeks, before straining his neck and back a little to bend down to kiss her forehead.

She'd fallen asleep in a strange position as usual. This time, she'd shoved a pillow against his side so she could sleep across the bed and use his chest as a pillow, rather than being normal and just sleep next to him. She hadn't even bothered getting under the covers, even though they had two blankets so that they never pulled the covers away from each other.

As such, it takes a while to even extricate himself from the bed, having to twist and turn and contort to move his pillow to Artemis's side of the bed, then convince and coax Artemis onto it from his half-curled position.

Percy takes his own blanket to cover her, up to her waist as he knows she prefers it. And he can't help but lie back down for a moment. He sneaks an arm under her neck and drapes the other over her, and then draws her in. Unconsciously, she snuggles into the crook of his next, sighing in contentment.

As much as he wishes to stay like this forever, though, he can't. He needs to pass this class, to finally finish all the math he never wanted to take in the first place but needs for GEs. Then he can go back to the classes he actually wants to take, the English classes for his major ...

So Percy takes one last inhale, to pick up and preserve the muted scent of jasmine that she wears, that he's become so intimate with, before pulling away and getting up.

He needs to take a shower, get changed, eat a bit of breakfast, grab all his things, etc. He shuts the curtains first, though, to not let the sunlight wake Artemis.

And as he leaves, there's a pot of coffee brewing, to be ready when his lover wakes.


	4. Familia

_Stories in families are colossally important. Every family has stories: some funny, some proud, some embarrassing, some shameful. Knowing them is proof of belonging to the family. - Salman Rushdie_

* * *

Home sweet home. "Hi, mom."

"Percy," was Sally Jackson's reply, warm and happy. Percy let himself be drawn, swept into his mother's embrace, before returning it with a quiet smile.

"Dear, you're going to smother him if you hug him any longer. Percy, do I finally get to meet the lovely lady in your life?"

Paul appeared behind his mother, carrying Daphne in one arm. And his sweet, beautiful little step-sister was blinking oh so innocently at him, suckling on a pacifier like no tomorrow.

"Indeed, Mr. Blowfish," replied Artemis, eyes cautious but mirthful. "I'm Luna."

"Did he tell you to call me that?" The man raised an eyebrow, before stepping around Percy and his mother to offer his hand in greeting. "Just call me Paul, please."

Artemis inclined her head in response and gave his hand a single shake before quickly dropping it.

Paul turned to his stepson, amused. "Percy, are you ever going to not bring that up?"

Percy just laughed, extricating himself from his mother's death-grip. "No comment."

At least Artemis wasn't going to look down on him _too_ much for his gender. She might've been a complete misandrist in the past, but to call her a man-hater now was extreme. She was sexist enough to have a bias, but she tended to recognize people of their own merit nowadays, male or female. Even if the males had to work a little harder to be worthwhile in her eyes.

Percy reached out to take Artemis's hand, the one she used to greet Paul. Rubbing it gently, he received a squeeze of acknowledgment in return.

That, and she'd remembered his stories about first meeting Paul and managed to pull off a joke on both of them. First with her tease, then getting him blamed for it.

He'd have to get back at her for that.

In the meantime, his mother pulled away from the entrance to give the couple space to enter.

"And how are you, sis?" Percy approached Paul and leaned closer to Daphne, who blinked back at him. With his free hand, he poked her stomach, before letting her grab his finger and let her explore and have her fun. He smiled softly, then took Daphne, whom his stepfather passed over without comment.

It was plainly obvious how much his stepsister looked like his mother. The same vibrant black hair, the same almost dainty nose. But it was the eyes that always drew Percy's attention the most. They were wide and curious, like any content baby's, but they were the same blue as his mother's. Exactly, from the rich depth of color to the strange shifting shade that seemed to be a trick of the light.

While the trait for clearsight wasn't genetic, Percy would bet a million of drachma Daphne had it too.

"So why are you two here so soon?" asked Sally. "I thought you weren't supposed to arrive in New York until tomorrow."

As a Son of Poseidon, it was pretty damn inconvenient to not be able to fly across the entire country in just five hours. He'd driven the first time to bring his luggage, but had taken a train for the few other times. But … "We took Mrs. O'Leary. Just decided not to pop out in the apartment this time. Or, at least, not your apartment."

Shadow travel. Faster than a plane, but almost even more uncomfortable. Just almost.

Artemis rapped the back of his head. "Because we ended up in _our_ apartment. Next time, my dear idiot, why don't you simply ask her to bring us to Central Park?"

Percy flushed as his family, even Daphne, laughed at his expense. "Yes, yes."

She was just asking for revenge.

But it was good to be back.

* * *

It's a while later, when Percy and his stepfather leaves to buy some groceries for all to cook a hearty dinner, that Artemis finds the right moment to talk candidly with Sally Jackson.

"So, Luna. Why the secrecy around my husband?" Sally reclined on the sofa, cradling Daphne in her arms as the child slept.

Artemis had met Sally thrice before, over the summer. The first hadn't quite been a meeting—Percy had been late to their arranged location by an hour, so she'd gone to his apartment. Sally had answered the doorbell for half a second before Percy had come charging out with an apology for oversleeping and a "Thanks, Mom! That's Luna, we're heading out, bye!"

The second time had been by Sally's insistence. Sally had made Percy bring her to meet Artemis at their rendezvous. The encounter had lasted perhaps 10 minutes before the mortal had somehow deduced her identity and left with a simple, "Percy, I trust you know what you're doing. Artemis, it was wonderful meeting you. Enjoy your date now."

The last time had been one on one—Artemis had visited Sally at a time she'd known she would be alone at home. Or, at least only with Daphne. Breastfeeding was a curious sight. For that to be in her future …

It was then that they had discussed Percy and Artemis living together in New Rome, and Sally's thoughts on the matter, and on their relationship.

It was disconcerting, meeting Percy's mortal parent. To her peripheral understanding, other gods didn't bother with their paramour's relatives when conceiving new demigods. They didn't need to. She certainly hadn't cared much for Sally's, or hell, Poseidon's input at the time, distraught as she was. It was just a bit too late for that, now, but matters have always been simple between the two. Artemis assumes that as long as Percy is happy, she won't have any trouble with her Uncle. If she ever sees the God of the Sea again, she hopes things will be fine.

But with Sally … and now, Paul?

Once upon a time, they would have been beneath her feet. Then, as her perspective as an immortal matured, they would have been just mortals—irrelevant to her life, a fact of existence, etc. Not exactly to be looked down upon, but certainly not to be cared for.

But now, the most relevant time of all … they are her boyfriend's immediate, _accessible_ parents.

She respects Sally. From the stories Percy has told her, it's all too clear that Sally is a strong woman in her own right. And Artemis respects both Percy and Sally enough to not be too biased against Paul, since both hold the man in such regard to accept him. And from what she sees, he's a good, solid man.

Artemis has still to interact with many mortals in her new form, besides in the most basic tenets of life. Primarily shopping. Percy's mother was a good place to start from. His stepfather …

"Ms. Jackson, to be frank, it would be simpler for both Percy and me if my identity was just Luna. The name Artemis simply raises too many questions—at this time, none of Percy's closest friends are aware of the greater details of my fictional background. We are sure a few suspect, and Percy and I are discussing even now, how to properly … _explain_." Artemis shrugs eloquently. "If things had proceeded as I desired, you would not have known so soon either. But, not to be insulting, even in your advanced age, your sight is clearer than even the most visually acute mortal of those I'd met."

"I … understand," Sally admits, absentmindedly patting Daphne's back. "You are certainly not who I expected, from the myths that I've none. Though neither was Percy's father, so I'm not surprised. Still, with your reputation, so many things that I'm aware of ... contradict. Your history versus your current situation, for one."

Artemis waits patiently for Sally to complete her train of thought.

"Percy knows what he's doing, he's a smart boy. But besides the bigger picture—silly boy, trying to keep secrets from me—and the tidbits he's told me, I wasn't sure how much you cared for him until your sudden visit." Sally smiles at the memory. "You can imagine my surprise at the time, a goddess so nervous meeting me, just to talk about how best to help someone we both love."

Artemis blushes. "I am no goddess."

And despite their massive age difference, Artemis can't help as if she's being treated as a teenager when Sally sends her a critical look, one that dissects her every thought. And no doubt, Artemis is less experienced in the matters of dedicated love compared with the mortal woman, but the gaze is uncomfortable nonetheless. "No … not any more. But you didn't deny that you love him. Living in the same apartment, first in New Rome, and now even here in New York … you two must be going at it like rabbits."

How did the conversation get even more embarrassing? Artemis hides her face behind her hands. "Wha-? No, no, we haven't gone _that_ far yet—whyever are you even bringing this up?"

Sally's laugh, so reminiscent of her son's, bubbles merrily into the air. "Oh, my! You two haven't—no wonder Percy's still so worked up-"

Artemis coughs. "Please, don't- what? Stop, he hasn't pushed for us to copulate or anything! He asked, he- he's very much the gentleman, respecting my wishes!"

Sally's amusement is replaced by softness frighteningly quickly. "Well, then I'm proud of my boy."

Artemis swallows her fears and nervousness, before one of Percy's most beloved people. "I've been seeking advice, on how to move forward from my predicament. Advice from someone who could possibly comprehend my situation. And despite your … proximity to the matter, I'd hoped you could provide. This is how I imagined the conversation to proceed, but nonetheless ... "

The mortal woman, so much younger yet the wiser, after a moment of thought, asks, "What are you afraid of?"

"Despite rejecting my maidenhood, my godhood … I'm- I'm afraid of giving away something I've protected so dearly for millennia. I'm afraid that things will change after the deed is done. I'm afraid of what the act could mean, both of now and for the future. This is all so … new, so very alien, and I can't help but be anxious … "

And it's Percy's mother, ever so matronly, smoothing over Daphne's hair and rocking the baby ever so gently to keep her asleep, that answers the questions that have been quietly eating away at her for many, many months. "Oh, my dear. It's simple. I only have a single question for you."

"What?"

"Do you trust Percy?"

"I … yes." Yes, she did.

"Then that should be reason enough. And when you're ready, tell him about these fears of yours, so he can prove himself and do his best to make you feel better. And when you're ready, and after the fact, you'll realize you were being just a little stupid and wished you'd done it sooner."

"... Thank you for your advice." Artemis had a lot of things to think about. But one thing she'd always wanted to do … "May I hold Daphne?"

"Certainly."

It's when Daphne is secure in her arms, the lovely babe snoring away, that Percy's mother shows her from whom Percy inherited his humor from.

"I can't wait until the day I get to tell Percy I got him laid."

"MS. JACKSON!"

"Please, call me Sally!"


	5. Aria

_"If the rain spoils our picnic, but saves a farmer's crop, who are we to say it shouldn't rain?" - Tom Barrett_

* * *

It was a quiet day.

The true heat of summer had yet to arrive, and people were out in droves to enjoy Central Park. Yet there was an unconscious consensus to keep all the games and running and screaming elsewhere, and the noise of the city was kept out of mind.

Artemis walked hand in hand with Percy, carrying a covered picnic basket at her side. Nature's whisper carried in the lingering breeze, dancing around them as they followed the paths to a familiar maple tree near the lakeshore.

She pulled away the fur cover and handed it to Percy, who gave her a kiss on the cheek as payment. Smiling, Artemis set the basket down on the grass, stepped in close, and returned the kiss.

They parted holding the ends of the pelt, and placed it on the ground together. Sitting, Percy took the basket and set it between them.

"So what'd you not want to show me?" Percy opened the basket. He laughed. "I gotta say, I wasn't expecting this."

He pulled out a pair of sandwiches in waxy blue wrapping paper. Peeling the wrapper revealed the bread was dyed blue.

"Your mother helped." She took out the rest of the food: blue sports drinks, cool ranch Doritos, cupcakes with blue frosting.

Percy raised an eyebrow, peeling open the sandwich. "Is the bacon … blue?"

A spot of color appeared on Artemis's cheeks. "We tried our best."

Percy chuckled. "You know, as much as I like blue food, I don't think you should make every food blue."

Artemis smiled, sheepish. "I must admit I thought it'd look more appetizing."

"Well," Percy shrugged, talking around a bite. "Tastes better than it looks."

Given a nibble of her own sandwich, Artemis disagreed. So she kissed him on the cheek again.

* * *

It is a quiet day.

The full heat of summer is almost gone, ushered out with the coming night. Still, none come out to enjoy the garden and the sunset.

Percy lies on the pelt of an animal he doesn't recognize, a picnic basket holding only waste now at his feet. Artemis lies at an angle, resting her head in his lap. He watches the sky above shift colors, hands playing with Artemis's hair as she reads.

Nature's lullaby rustles in the blooming flowers, the savored, soothing sigh of a moment of peace.

"What do you think of a silver picnic?" Percy asks.

Artemis pauses. He knows she raises her eyebrow, even if he can't see it. "Regardless of the lack of silver food dye, I don't have an absurd liking for a specific color of food."

Percy pouts, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch."

She's definitely rolling her eyes. And that's a flick to his side.

Percy sucks in a breath. "Right. That actually stings."

Artemis puts her book into the picnic basket and twists, kissing the spot she hit. "Better?"

"Much better." Percy takes her hand and Artemis slides up beside him, head resting on his arm.

"Maybe we could do green food," she says, looking deep into his eyes.

"I guess I could be vegetarian for a meal." Percy shrugs.

"Well, some raw meat can turn green-" Artemis laughs as she rolls away onto the grass before he can pin her down. She stands up. "Or we could just have a regular picnic."

"You started this whole thing, not me." Percy gets off the fur, and they fold it together. They share another kiss when they meet at the final fold.

Percy picks up the basket, and they link hands. They walk out of the Garden of Bacchus.

They walk home.


End file.
